


FILE: NO. 47 Palindromified

by Xrross



Series: The Wishful Files [6]
Category: Id:Invaded (Anime)
Genre: (mostly), Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood and Injury, Car Chases, Graphic Description of Corpses, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xrross/pseuds/Xrross
Summary: With two people dead and butchered, the Kura launches into operation once more. But faced with a type of id well never seen before, will the Brilliant Detective be able to catch the mysterious "Antagonist"? Or is his target much closer than originally thought?Inspired by Christopher Nolen's "Tenet".
Series: The Wishful Files [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878448
Comments: 12
Kudos: 6





	FILE: NO. 47 Palindromified

“Wonderful. We’ve got another artist on our hands.”

Kitano huffed in a mildly humoured way at Matsuoka’s dry comment, though he wasn’t much in the mood for anything more than that. His arms tightly crossed, he couldn’t help but evert his eyes every once in awhile from the monstrosity in front of him. This was in contrast to Matsuoka, who hadn’t broken his gaze once, his face wrinkled as he frowned, his frustration evident, yet filtered by an undeniable weariness. One would shudder to think what could possibly make him used to atrocities like this. 

Tied to each other with wire, the twins were identical in every way; the soft brown hair, the vacant green eyes, slightly flabby stomach, and, most disturbingly, the injuries. It was as if a single corpse was being reflected in a mirror. Each body’s grievous blemishes was a match; the strip of torn skin snaking both legs in a coil, the neat cubes of flesh removed from the thighs, the “+” sign cut into the centre of the chest, and the small, smooth hole drilled into the head. Not particularly wanting to stay much longer, Matsuoka pulled out his Wakamusubi and, not surprisingly, immediately got a hit.

“Momoki, we’ve found a lead. Do your thing,” he said, his phone already on and connected as he turned away. Taking the opportunity, Kitano finally looked away from the bodies, sighing and rubbing his eyes. 

_“Copy that, on our way to the Wellside now. Kokufu’s already given the go-ahead. See what you can uncover at the warehouse.”_

“Sure. Not to rush you, but see if you can’t speed through this one. I’d feel much more comfortable with whatever did this behind bars ASAP.”

_“We’ll do our best, but we’re really not the ones you should be prepping.”_

“Hmph!” With a harsh puff of air from his nostrils, Matsuoka hung up and shoved his phone in his pockets and he looked back at the bodies, his expression even more unpleasant than before.

_Don’t talk that crap to me, Momoki. We both know that monster has all the motivation he needs._

* * *

“Da da opera, hear the red and blue outside I think our options up…”

“Wakashika, focus.”

“Yes, Director…” Wakashika groaned, popping out his earphones and continuing with his setup. Rolling his eyes slightly, Momoki turned back towards the projector.

“You all know the plan. Togo, macro analysis. Shiratake, times and places. Habutae, human analysis. Wakashika will make deductions about the murder, and Narihisago-”

_“And Akihito Narihisago, A.K.A Brilliant Detective Sakaido, will be the protagonist of this sordid, gory tale, like so many others before.”_

There was a moment of silence, nobody quite sure what to say, before Narihisago, clearly sensing the awkwardness, spoke up again.

_“Uhh, sorry about that. I think I’ve been listening to Fukuda too much. He’s started writing poetry.”_

“Hmph…” Momoki let out a single, breathy chuckle, before seemingly remembering his place, forcing a more serious expression on his face, unlike Wakashikia, who burst into a massive grin.

“Whoa, Narihisago! Didn’t know you had such cool one-liners in you!”

_“Hm, I have my moments.”_

“Ahem.” Both men stopped talking when Togo cleared her throat, giving an unimpressed look at Momoki, who raised an eyebrow in amusement and nodded at her in an affirmative manner.

“Alright. Let’s get this started. Injecting Sakaido!”

* * *

Opening his eyes, the Protagonist found himself surrounded by darkness, his entire body smothered by some kind of heavy fabric. Almost immediately, he felt panic grip him, and he began to writhe around, trying to give himself some breathing room, before he saw a flash of light above him. The sight calming him somewhat, he tried sitting up, and the fabric fell away. He shut his eyes again, before slowly opening them again as they adjusted to the light.

The Protagonist was in a bed, pushed up to the side in what seemed to be a studio flat. The room itself was of a rather impressive size, featuring a sofa and TV in the centre, a kitchen and a door on another side, another door on the far side, a wardrobe at the foot of the bed, a set of draws next to the head, and an entire wall taken up by a window, revealing a featureless blue sky.

_A pretty ritzy place… do I live here? Is this my home? Doesn’t really feel like it. Wait, why am I even questioning where I… oh._

His stomach sinking with realisation, the Protagonist pulled the duvet off him and placed his feet on the floor, covering one side of his face with his hand in thought

_There’s nothing. I can’t remember a thing. No home, no age, no job, not even a name. What am I doing here, fully dressed in someone else’s bed?_

As he thought, the Protagonist’s eyes fell to the floor for the first time, which was a polished wood (barring the black carpet under the “living centre”) almost blinding with how well it reflected light. It wasn’t blinding enough, however, for him to avoid noticing the hole in the floor. Instantly drawing his attention, the Protagonist frowned, and leaned forward to get a closer look. It was small, only a few millimetres in diameter, and the way the splinters stuck out suggested that whatever had created them had come from the lower floor.

_Bullets… it has to be… must have been recent too… I can still smell the gunpowder. Not just that, I can even see the… smoke…? Wait…_

The Protagonist watched in amazement as smoke, seemingly coming from out of nowhere, began spiralling towards the hole. The smell of gunpowder becoming stronger by the second, the Protagonist was suddenly forced to jerk his head back as the hole suddenly sealed itself shut in a violent manner, an oddly familiar gunshot ringing out, though in a very odd tone, almost as if it were reversed. Along with the hole, the smell had completely vanished too, almost as if it had never been there in the first place.

As the Protagonist sat there in shock, unsure as to how to process this, he suddenly heard a series of faint footsteps almost directly beneath him, headed in the same direction as the door on the kitchen side. For a moment, he wondered if he should stay and continue to investigate where he woke, but quickly eschewed that in favour of getting up and trying to follow the possible gunman’s path. Quickly crossing the room and opening the door, the Protagonist found himself in a surprisingly bland, grey hallway, with rows of identical doors on both sides, barring one that seemed to lead to the stairs, holed up at the end of the hall, which noticeably sported a large, push-handle. Given the impressive nature of the flat, the Protagonist had expected the rest of the hotel to be of similar quality. Ignoring the mismatch, he followed the footsteps towards the stairs and opened the door, ending up in a similarly drab stairwell. Immediately, the footsteps were much louder, the slaps of shoes against concret, but, similar to the gunshots, the sound was strangely distorted; it was as if he was hearing the echo before the actual steps themselves.

“Hey, hold on!” Without thinking, the Protagonist lept over the railing and landed on his feet, albeit poorly and with a grunt of pain. Stumbling down the last few steps, he gripped the handle of the open door that the gunman had presumably run out of. Forcing himself to keep moving, the Protagonist pushed himself away from the door - slamming it shut in the process - and ignored the pain in his ankles as he sprinted down the stairs, following the sound of his target - his gunman - his Antagonist.

* * *

“Shiratake, any leads on the building?”

“The building’s as nondescript as they come, but I’ve got a match for the room Sakaido woke up in,” Shiratake confirmed, flicking his finger across his display as he overlaid several seemingly identical images. “The studio apartment is an exact match for a type of accommodation offered by the Medical University of Innsnbruck in Austria.” Upon hearing mention of the country, Wakashikia raised an eyebrow.

“Austria, huh? Maybe we’ve found ourselves another murdering European oligarch?”

Momoki responded in part by closing his eyes and shaking his head a bit. “I’d hope not. We’re still dealing with the fallout surrounding the Russian Forgin Minister..”

“Sir,” Togo interrupted, zooming in as a slow-motion replay of the holes ‘imploding’ played on her display. “The bullets that went through the floor were ‘9.1×29mmR’. Amongst others, it’s used as ammo for the New Nambu M60, which is still used by a lot of Japanese police.”

“Could the Conjoiner be one of our own?” Habutae suggested, not having too much to do himself.

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” Wakashika pondered, rubbing his chin. “You wouldn’t imagine an on-duty officer in Japan to study at a medical university in Austria. Maybe a forensic officer? They’d have to be familiar with police for a standard-issue gun to show up here. Or maybe they’re just a gun nut?”

“Habutae. Until we get a visual on the Antagonist, go through our personnel records and look for forensic staff who might have trained in Austria.”

“Got it!”

“So, is ‘Antagonist’ the official name for our rewinding shooter?” Wakashikia asked with a quirk of the eyebrow.

“Until we’re able to identify them, we’ll go with Sakaido’s labelling. Speaking of, everyone stand by. He’s about to exit the building.”

* * *

Panting, the Protagonist ran down the foyer towards the double doors at the end. Through the windows on them, he could see a car reversing down a road just in front of the building. Gritting his teeth, he rammed through the doors with his shoulder, just in time to see a bulky range rover in round the corner, still driving backwards. “Dammit!” The Protagonist stamped his foot in frustration, but as his eyeline drifted down the street, he noticed an identical vehicle facing towards him, the door hanging open and the engine already revving.

The Protagonist quickly looked around him. He was in a large metropolitan area, high-rise buildings with extravagant designs galore. Unnervingly though, there was a complete lack of human activity; it was as if he was standing in a model city blown up to real-life. There weren’t even any other cars. Not wanting to lose sight of the one person he had seen however, he ran forward and slid into the driver’s seat. It briefly occurred to him that he didn’t know if he could drive, but as his hands flew over the wheel and the gear stick with extreme fluidity without even having to think about it, such fears left him. As he reversed back into the road, he noticed that his trunk seemed to be open slightly. Though he was half tempted to get out and check it, he knew he couldn’t afford to waste much time. 

Once in position, he slammed his foot into the pedal and sped down the road. Skidding around the corner, he saw the Antagonist’s rover speed round another one ahead, still driving backwards for some reason. Unfortunately, the windows were all tinted black, so even a momentary glimpse of his target was denied. As he sped down the road, the Protagonist noted the oddity of a road in what seemed to be a major city only leading one way - left - with no branching paths, an oddity that only grew when he turned again and found himself in an exact repeat. If this continued, he’d find himself right back in front of the hotel where he started. As he turned the third corner, he felt the car lean heavily on it’s right. Realising the Antagonist’s car was still far ahead of him, he made to push the acceleration down further. His foot froze however, as he took in the road ahead of him.

At first glance, it was as identical as the prior three, a twenty-five meter long road with the same skyscrapers on either side. So identical it was, that the Protagonist almost missed the one differing detail: a body, lying motionless on the right pavement in a bloody mess, a flash of a white dress and the odd matt of black hair visible through all the blood. Frowning, the Protagonist leaned in closer as he approached the body, unable to shake the feeling that he was supposed to-

The Antagonist’s car turned sharply, something the Protagonist barely noticed in the corner of his peripheral vision, the sudden motion forcing his attention back to the road, as well as the corner he was about to turn. Cursing, he spun the wheel frantically, and, to his display, the car started spinning out of control. He tried spinning the wheel the other way, but that almost seemed to make the problem worse, the rover spiralling past the turn. All of a sudden, the car gave way and flipped over, the roof caving in as it hit the concrete, unable to support the weight of the vehicle. Flung forward, the Protagonist felt both air and blood fly out of his mouth and his chest was crushed against the steering wheel. Before he could even attempt to take in one final breath, the car crashed into a roadside building. Moments later, glass fragments flew into the Protagonist’s eyes, blinding him, though, given that he died only a few seconds afterwards, he honestly didn’t miss much.

_Extract him!_

* * *

Waking up, the first thing Narihisago did after catching his breath was cover his eyes and aggressively massage them, the phantom pain still throbbing.

_“Narihisago, everything alright?”_

“Yep…! Just… ugh, haven’t had the eyes done in awhile. Forgotten just how painful it is,” Narihisago admitted, elbows on his knees as he held his head in his hands. 

_“Unfortunately, we weren’t able to gleen much from that run, and Habutae hasn’t come up with any promising suspects yet. We’re gonna need to send you back in.”_

Right, right.” Rolling his eyes into his head, Narihisago lay back, taking in a deep breath.

_“Injecting Sakaido!”_

* * *

The Protagonist opened his eyes, finding himself leaning forward staring at his hands. His vision still slightly blurry, he sat up with a groan, jumping slightly when he felt something large and leathery hit his back. He calmed down quickly however, soon realising he was sitting in the driver’s seat of a car, probably a range rover, his hands resting on the wheel. 

_What… is this? Where am I, and what am I doing here? Who… am…_

His mind clearing rapidly, the Protagonist looked around, peering out the windows, finding himself in a high-rise metropolis, though, rather unnervingly, there was a complete lack of people and other vehicles. Traditional sounds of the cityscape were absent, creating a ghostly atmosphere. The lack of noise also made it extremely easy, even within the car, to hear the smattering of broken glass, even if only faintly. Straining his ears, the Protagonist realised that the noise was coming from several meters ahead of him, at the turn in the road where it made a hard right. Not only that, but it seemed to be getting louder by the second. Feeling around, the Protagonist realised that the key was already in the ignition, and on instinct he twisted it, his hand finding the gear stick.

_Well, let’s just hope that I have a license. Then again, I’d be surprised if there’s any police around._

Slowly pushing down on the pedal, the Protagonist moved the car forward a few inches at most before he suddenly stopped, freezing in shock as a large, thick-tired range rover suddenly rolled out from a building in an inferno of metal, brick and glass. His jaw slack, he watched with increasing confusion as the glass and brick seemingly imploded and reformed, but his attention quickly snapped back to the car as it suddenly righted itself, the dents smoothing out and parts snapping back on, and started driving backwards down the road, disappearing around the corner. But just as it steadied itself, the force sent something flying out of the open trunk before it slammed shut. A blur of white, virtually unidentifiable as it flew through the air, but once it hit the floor, it quickly became clear what it was. Through the blood and broken limbs, a face peered out, the neck twisted backwards, staring down at the road, a single green eye peeking out.

_It’s her… Kaeru. I know her. And… I know who I am. Sakaido. I’m Brilliant Detective Sakaido, who must solve the mystery of Kaeru’s death._

His gaze sharpening, Sakaido drove forward so he could peer round the bend, just catching the tail end of the car as it vanished round another identical bend. With one last glance at Kaeru, he made his choice and quickly turned, speeding down the road and drifting onto the next stretch of the road. To his surprise, the road ahead also turned into a right, the car ahead vanishing down it. A strange feeling growing in his gut, Sakaido speed up, turning the corner to find himself, as he predicted, down a near-identical road.

_Who would build a road that goes to nowhere? And in the middle of a city no less. Is there even anything beyond the buildings next to us? At this right, we’ll end up right back where we started._

Sure enough, when Sakaido turned the final bend, he found himself driving down the same road he’d woken up in. He could still see Kaeru at the end. One difference though - the car he’d been tailing had stopped; parked haphazardly in the middle of the road with the engine still running and the door wide open. Speaking of doors, Sakaido just managed to catch the one leading into a tall, ritzy hotel swing shut. Taking one final look at Kaeru, he opened the door and rushed across the road, going carefully at first to make sure he didn’t get run over, though breaking into a sprint when he remembered that there were no other cars on the road.

* * *

“Okay, I’m not the only one getting intense deja-vu, right?” Wakashika asked, his eyes flicking between the live feed and a recording of the prior one. Shiratake was doing the same, tapping the side of his glasses rhythmically.

“No, you’re not. By all accounts, this run is an exact duplicate of the last one, with the difference being that it’s happening in reverse with our perspective having changed to the Antagonist.”

“Would ‘reverse’ even be the right word to use? Would ‘switched’ be a better term?” Habutae wondered aloud. 

Letting out an inquisitive hum, Momoki crossed his arms, his brow tight and furrowed. “If this is the same run from a different perspective, it’s possible we might not get much new info. Then again, Sakaido and the Antagonist started in different places in the last run. Let’s keep the run going, and see where things go.”

* * *

“Fuuuu…! Guess I don’t get too much exercise…! I’ll have to… work on that!” His chest sore, Sakaido nonetheless forced himself to move faster, sprinting up the stairs until he arrived at the sixth floor, the door leading into the hallway just swinging shut. Without skipping a beat, he ran right through, only to come to a conundrum: there were no other doors open. His eyes bouncing from door to door, Sakaido tried to slow himself down and think.

_Okay… think. If I were the guy being chased, where would I hide?_

After allowing himself to think for a moment, Sakaido made up his mind, barreling down the hall towards the door at the very end. Picking the lift-side one, he turned the handle, finding it open. His hopes rising, Sakaido entered, only for them to crash just as hard. The room, at first glance at least, had nothing worth looking at; just a normal, if rather high-class, studio flat.

_Still, it wouldn’t be right to just leave. I need to investigate, but I’ll need to be quick about it!_

Sakaido took a step forward into the flat, his gaze sweeping the room, before landing on the bed, tucked away in the corner of the room. There, lying on the neatly folded sheets, was a revolver, just out there in the open. Frowning, Sakaido walked over to the bed, an odd feeling coming over him. “This gun… I’ve… no, I couldn’t have. Could I?”

Picking up the revolver, Sakaido felt an odd sense of nostalgia wash over him. The way it fit into his hand felt so natural, like he’d done it many a time before. Extending his arm, Sakaido swept the gun across the room, trying to get a read on the emotion he was feeling. Raising the gun slightly so that he was aiming at the ceiling above the other side of the room, his finger tugged on the trigger reflexively, not intending to actually pull it, the motion, much like the feeling of the gun itself, feeling bizarrely familiar. However, the trigger was far looser than he thought it was, and no sooner than he had pulled it, Sakaido felt the gun kick in his hands, a bullet whizzing through the air and blowing straight through the ceiling.

Caught off guard, Sakaido jumped at the sound of the gunshot, almost dropping the gun in the process. “Wha… I didn’t…” All of a sudden, he remembered what he was originally here for, like a fog clearing his mind. “Shit!” Dragging himself out of the cockpit, Narihisago made for the metal door. “I can’t believe I… wait. What?”

Blinking, Narihisago back at the cockpit, his eyes wide. “Was… I ejected?”

_“Narihisago! What happened?! Do you have your memories back?”_

“I… uhh… yes? I just kind of… transitioned, I guess?”

_“Okay… right. Just hang tight for a minute. Sit back down.”_

“Okay, but what even happened?”

No response. Holding the back of his neck, Narihisago looked back at the cockpit with an unsure expression.

* * *

“Okay, what the hell!?” Scratching underneath his headband, Wakashikia rewound the feed down to the last millisecond before the stream blacked out. “Have we ever had an id well boot out the brilliant detective?”

“Not to my recollection,” Togo answered bluntly, cool as ever as she watched the two runs play out side-by-side. “Starting the two runs at the same time, Narihisago was ejected the exact moment that Sakaido died in the first. If we play the first one in reverse, then Narihisago wakes up the same time Sakaido goes under the covers. Everything lines up.”

His brow slightly sweaty, Momoki turned towards the upper ring. “Habutae! Shiratake! Anything new from that run?”

“I’m afraid it’s what you feared, Director Momoki,” Shirtake reported, readjusting his glasses. “The new run didn’t yield any new information. The room is an exact copy of the one upstairs. No differences whatsoever.”

“Sorry, but I’m turning up nothing too. The only thing I can say is that it’s likely the Antagonist and Sakaido are the same person, just in different runs.”

“So, does that mean that the id well predicted his second run?” Momoki wondered, half to everyone else and half to himself. Wakashikia responded regardless.

“No idea, but I have a feeling Narihisago getting booted out is linked to the theme of this well. In order to match with the first run, the second one needed to end at whatever cost. But since the id well didn’t have anything that could kill him, the Mizuhanome just kicked him out. I bet that if he was in the Antagonist’s POV the first time, the same would have happened?”

“So, the Conjoiner has some kind of obsession with… the flow of time? Duality? Mirrors?” Habuate guessed.

“Inspector, what should we do?” Togo asked. “If we send Narihisago in a third time-”

“Alright, I have a plan,” Momoki suddenly announced, back in control once more. “We’ll send Narihisago in a few more times. If it looks like we’re replaying an old run, then we pull him out. And if we can’t progress any further, then we’ll bring in another brilliant detective. You got that, Narihisago?”

_“Yeah, I’m locked and loaded.”_

“Good. Injecting Sakaido!”

* * *

Opening his eyes, the Protagonist found himself surrounded by darkness, his entire body smothered by some kind of heavy fabric. Almost immediately, he felt panic grip him, and he began to writhe around, trying to give himself some breathing room, before he saw a flash of light above him. The sight calming him somewhat, he tried sitting up, and the fabric fell away. He shut his eyes again, before slowly opening them again as they adjusted to the light.

The Protagonist was in a bed, pushed up to the side in what seemed to be a studio flat. The room itself was of a rather impressive size, featuring a sofa and TV in the centre, a kitchen and a door on another side, another door on the far side, a wardrobe at the foot of the bed, a set of draws next to the head, and an entire wall taken up by a window, revealing a featureless blue sky.

_A pretty ritzy place… do I live here? Is this my home? Doesn’t really feel like it. Wait, why am I even questioning where I… oh._

His stomach sinking with realisation, the Protagonist pulled the duvet off him and placed his feet on the floor, covering one side of his face with his hand in thought.

_There’s nothing. I can’t remember a thing. No home, no age, no job, not even a name. What am I doing here, fully dressed in someone else’s bed?_

As he thought, the Protagonist’s eyes fell to the floor for the first time, which was a polished wood (barring the black carpet under the “living centre”) almost blinding with how well it reflected light. It wasn’t blinding enough, however, for him to avoid noticing the hole in the floor. Instantly drawing his attention, the Protagonist frowned, and leaned forward to get a closer look. It was small, only a few millimetres in diameter, and the way the splinters stuck out suggested that whatever had created them had come from the lower floor.

_Bullets… it has to be… must have been recent too… I can still smell the gunpowder. Not just that, I can even see the… smoke…? Wait…_

The Protagonist watched in amazement as smoke, seemingly coming from out of nowhere, began spiralling towards the hole. The smell of gunpowder becoming stronger by the second, the Protagonist was suddenly forced to jerk his head back as the hole suddenly sealed itself shut in a violent manner, an oddly familiar gunshot ringing out, though in a very odd tone, almost as if it were reversed. Along with the hole, the smell had completely vanished too, almost as if it had never been there in the first place.

As the Protagonist sat there in shock, unsure as to how to process this, he suddenly heard a series of faint footsteps almost directly beneath him, headed in the same direction as the door on the kitchen side. For a moment, he wondered if he should stay and continue to investigate where he woke, but quickly eschewed that in favour of getting up and trying to follow the possible gunman’s path. Standing up, he went to run across towards the door, but couldn’t feel himself moving at all. Looking down, the Protagonist was surprised to find himself levitating in mid-air. Kicking his legs about, he suddenly shot up into the air, screaming as the world around him blurred into a single white blur.

* * *

The Protagonist opened his eyes, finding himself leaning forward staring at his hands. His vision still slightly blurry, he sat up with a groan, jumping slightly when he felt something large and leathery hit his back. He calmed down quickly however, soon realising he was sitting in the driver’s seat of a car, probably a range rover, his hands resting on the wheel. 

_What… is this? Where am I, and what am I doing here? Who… am… HUH?!”_

Before he could truly come to grips with his surroundings, the Protagonist suddenly felt himself lift into the air, watching wide-eyed as the car around him and the world outside vanished, leaving him with nothing but a sickening feeling of vertigo as his mind went blank.

* * *

Opening his eyes, the Protagonist found himself surrounded by darkness, his entire body smothered by some kind of heavy fabric. Almost immediately, he felt panic grip him, and he began to writhe around, trying to give himself some breathing room, before he saw a flash of light above him. The sight calming him somewhat, he tried sitting up, and the fabric fell away. He shut his eyes again, before slowly opening them again as they adjusted to the light. Upon doing so however, the Protagonist found himself staring into a white void. Letting out a gasp, he could do nothing as he felt himself evaporate into thin air.

* * *

“Mmmm… what is this… run number seven?” Narihisago grumbled, rubbing his eyes, not even bothering to sit up.

_“Twelve, actually. But don’t worry, this next run, we’ll be introducing a new element.”_

“Thank goodness. This is so mind-numbing…”

“Hope I can liven up your day then!”

Opening his eyes, Narihisago rolled his head over to the cockpit to his left, his eyebrow raised. “Huh. Have to admit, I figured they’d just drag Fukuda out.”

“Come on! You know I’ll jump at the chance to dive!” Hondomachi said, leaning forward and giving him a smile. “Besides, it’s a welcome distraction from my paperwork!” With a wry smile, Narihisago shook his head and leaned back.

“Don’t let Kokufu hear that. Everything gets recorded, you know.”

“This is still work!”

 _“Hondomachi, you’re aware of the situation, right?”_ came Momoki’s voice, cutting through their banter.

“Yeah, something about Sakaido being stuck between two runs? Sounds fascinating!”

_“Unfortunately for you, if everything goes like we hope, then you won’t get to experience that. We’re hoping that adding a second, wholly different individual into the mix changes things.”_

“Oh, okay.” Letting out a somewhat disappointed sigh, Hondomachi leaned back, closing her eyes. Doing the same, Narihisago cracked a smile.

“Keep your disappointment to yourself. I’d kill for some change around here…”

_“Injecting Sakaido and Hijiriido!”_

* * *

The Protagonist awoke to the feeling of broken glass over his body. Taking a moment to regain his senses, he moved slowly, wiping the shards of his face and sitting up carefully to avoid getting cut. After cautiously wiping his eyes clear and opening them, he found himself staring at a shattered mirror. It took up an entire wall of the room he was in; leaning to the side and looking into a part of the mirror that wasn’t broken, he got his first look at himself.

_Well, isn’t this a fruity design? Why am I dressed like this? Why don’t I remember how I got here? Actually, now that I think about it, why don’t I remember anything?_

Putting aside the issue of his missing identity, the Protagonist looked around the rest of the room. Discounting the giant mirror, he seemed to be in some kind of medial theatre, complete with a table - with an attached light shining on it - and silver platter with tools in the middle, a door in the corner of the wall opposite the mirror, and a curtain next to that. Getting to his feet, the Protagonist turned back towards the hole in the mirror to investigate, and was surprised when he found the face of a young girl peeking through, a deerstalker plopped on her hat.

“Hm. Looks to be the same as in here. Well, except for you of course.”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” Stepping over the glass, the Protagonist crouched down so he was now level with the girl - the Deuteragonist. “Tell me, do you happen to know who you are? Name, age, why you’re here? Anything?” The Deuteragonist gave him an awkward, sympathetic look.

“You too, huh?”

“Yeah, I was afraid that would be the case.” Sighing, the Protagonist peered around her shoulder into the room she was in. True to her earlier comment, their rooms were practically identical, the only difference being that her’s was mirrored. Tapping the mirror, he let his head fall into his other hand in thought. “The mirror doesn’t seem all that strong. I could probably break through this and join you on the other side.”

“Yeah… or I could!” The Deuteragonist said, seeming a bit too eager to try and break through a window. 

“On second thought, before that, maybe we should do a bit more investigation,” the Protagonist hurriedly suggested. The Deuteragonist rolled her eyes, but got to her feet, her face disappearing as she wandered off.

“Sure, sure… I wanna check this door out,” she sighed, approaching said door. Intrigued, the Protagonist quickly followed her lead and approached his door. He wasn’t too sure what, but something gave him the impression that he needed to do the same.

“Yeah, me too.” Hurrying over to his own door, the Protagonist grabbed the handle before he noticed the curtains out of the corner of his eyes. Deciding to play it safe, he moved over and pushed the curtain aside to get a look at what he was stepping into, and though the lighting was poor, it was clearly a hospital hallway.

“Hey, uh, Miss. Are you seeing a hospital?”

“...”

“Miss?”

“...”

A pit growing in his stomach, the Protagonist turned away from the window and quickly walked over to the mirror. “Miss?” Bending over, he peered through the hole, only to see an open door, revealing, as he’d suspected, a hospital hallway.

“Huh, maybe she just left,” he wondered aloud to himself. Still, it was with a worried expression on his face that he turned around, intent on finally exiting the door, only to find it melting. Freezing, the Protagonist could do nothing but watch as the world around him blurred and faded from view; an intense feeling of vertigo suddenly overtaking him as he felt himself fly upwards. Even as his screams and mind faded, his last thoughts were of the Deuteragonist, hoping that she at least was alright.

* * *

“Please… tell me that this means we have a match?”

 _“Yeah._ _Stiegl_ _Sator. A migrant born and educated in Austria. Moved to Japan twenty years ago and works part-time at a morgue. Often works with the police for forensics. Hold on, I’ll be down in a minute.”_

“Good…” Groaning, Narihisago finally let himself fall forward, resting on his knees.

“All those runs really took a number on you, huh?” Hondomachi asked, looking as perky as ever, prompting a deadpan stare from Narihisago.

“It’s not so much the runs that did it, but just doing the same thing over and over again with no progress. It gets frustrating, especially since deep down I knew that I couldn’t change anything.”

“Well, then you can’t beat yourself up over it.” Trying to boost his mood slightly, Hondomachi got out of the cockpit and walked over, turning around and leaning against Narihisago’s. “It didn’t matter if it was me for Fukuda, someone had to go into this first. Oh, speaking of Fukuda, I wonder what would happen if all three of us dived in!”

“Unfortunately, I wouldn’t count on it,” Momoki said, the lights coming on as the doors opened. “This case is all but shut.”

“You sure?” Narihisago lifted his head up, a questioning look on his face. “You pulled us out of there pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, all thanks to Hijiriido.” Crossing his arms, Momoki leaned against the wall next to the door, somewhat mirroring Hondomachi’s pose. “When she went into the hallway, she met Sator himself.”

“Oh, does that mean that you didn’t, Mr. Narihisago?” Hondomachi asked. Narihisago shook his head.

“No, just an empty hallway. I guess the two sides weren’t as identical as we thought. Having a second brilliant detective really did break the mirror. Sator, he must have some kind of fixation with the idea of reflection.”

 _“Yeah, that was my idea!”_ Wakashikia said from over the speaker. _“Given that the murder victims were twins, and the way their bodies were presented, not to mention the inital id well, which added as a perfect loop, regardless of which way it was played, kinda like a… whatchamacallit… a palindome! Perhaps in his eyes, symmetry is the perfect ideal, and the first well was to hide the imperfect asymmetry of the true id well!_

“You mean palind **r** ome,” Narihisago corrected, suddenly looking far more interested. “Still, didn’t know you had such an eye for psychology. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

_“Come on, just because I don’t dress up in cosplay doesn’t mean I’m not a detective! I love cracking open these kinds of characters like eggs.”_

Narihisagi’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t say.” Something in his tone sent a chill down Momoki's back, and he quickly moved to stop the conversation before it could evolve into something worse.

"Hondomachi, mind escorting Narihisago back to his cell?"

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Hondomachi said, tapping the side of the cockpit as a cue for Narihisago to stand up. "Come on, Brilliant Detective."

"Don't forget to cuff him. Good work you two." With that, Momoki left, trying to ignore Narihisago as he bore holes into his back. Once he was safe from the man's stare, he loosened his tie slightly, the sounds of the two pilots talking fading into the background as he ascended the stairs back to the Wellside.

_Every time I look at that man, I feel like I'm getting splashed with cold water. I've gotta remember to talk with Kokufu about these guys. They need help. At the very least, I need to keep Narihisago and Wakashikai separate. Who knows that kind of conversations those two would have..._

**Author's Note:**

> You can bet I was blasting "The Plan" while I was writing this.


End file.
